


Happy Birthday To You

by QueenOfNewOrleans22



Category: Mötley Crüe
Genre: Angst, Birthday, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28008894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22
Summary: Nikki doesn't like his birthday.
Relationships: Mick Mars/Nikki Sixx
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	Happy Birthday To You

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday, Nikki Sixx!

Truth be told and dignity set aside, Nikki really didn't like his birthday. 

Sure, in the most recent years, the actual celebration had been nice, and ever since they'd all gotten off drugs the guys had actually found presents that Nikki would enjoy, but in all honesty, even when he was laughing at one of Tommy's stupid jokes out of common courtesy, and even when Vince was trying to be nice and bake the cake, and even when Mick's hand kept snaking under the table to trace absent patterns into his leg, there was still something that made Nikki not truly enjoy it. 

Whether it be his childhood (thanks, mom) or the general darkness that surrounded his early years, Nikki had never really liked his birthday, and that hadn't changed as the years passed. 

Sure, on his birthdays he learned how to laugh a little more convincingly, or how to pretend that he actually liked the cake, or how wearing darkened sunglasses enabled Nikki to stare into Mick's eyes, but, in general, Nikki just didn't like it. 

"What's wrong?" Mick asked, not even bothering to open his eyes, as if he knew that the question alone was great enough that no lie could penetrate it. 

"Hmmm?" Nikki hummed, looking up from his task. 

"I said - what's wrong with you?" Mick repeated. 

Nikki frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about." He said, before looking back down. "Is this a good spot?" He asked. 

"You're avoiding the question." Mick said. "But yes. Keep doing that one." 

"I'm not - oh, really? Good." Nikki continued kneading the back Mick's shoulders, pleased. "Because this is a new position. I was reading while eating breakfast and this one lady - she's a therapist - said that is a nice spot for people with just back issues in general." 

"Nikki?" Mick said. 

"Yeah?" Nikki raised his eyebrows. 

"As much as I love hearing you talk about me, please answer the question." Mick still didn't open his eyes. 

Pausing momentarily, Nikki pursed his lips. "Yesterday I banged my hip on the table and it still hurts." He said. 

Mick smiled. "You're not good at lying to me." He said. 

"I know!" Nikki sat back and glared up at the ceiling, frowning, torn between anger and exasperated. "Shit..." He sighed and rubbed the bridge of nose. 

"Is it that serious?" Mick asked. "Do you want me to sit up?" 

"No, no, just give me a minute. I just didn't know we were gonna have a therapy session." Nikki sighed. 

"Well, usually, you're talking my ear off about whatever dumb shit you and the drummer have been doing." Mick replied. 

Nikki resumed his task, practiced after several years of doing such things to help out and make sure that Mick wasn't in too much pain. "You're gonna think that I'm an inconsiderate asshole that can't appreciate the good things when they come to him." 

"You _are_ an asshole, but you're not inconsiderate." Mick said. "And you appreciate me, so that last part isn't entirely true." He was frowning intensely now, with that look in his eyes that suggested he was torn between a decision. 

"Thanks for that." Nikki paused again, and then his shoulders slumped. "You'll think that it's silly and stupid." He felt like a child who was refusing to divulge a perilous secret. 

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean I won't look at it seriously and give you the best advice that I possibly can." Mick replied. 

Despite himself, Nikki smiled, and for a moment, he took a deep breathe, and calmed down his racing thoughts. ' _Has Mick ever steered you wrong?'_ Nikki thought, and the answer was a firm negative.

"It's just - tomorrow's my birthday." Nikki said. 

"Yes. It's a miracle that you haven't managed to kill yourself." Mick said. "I thought we went over this, Nik; those paramedics worked very hard to rev- " 

"What? No." Nikki shook his head. 

"No?" Mick made a face. "Sorry. Elaborate more." 

"Well, I don't really - not that they aren't always great - but I don't like my birthdays." Nikki pulled away again, twisting his fingers and looking down at them, feeling strangely ashamed. 

Mick sighed. "Help me roll over." 

"No, my hands are already covered in massage oil, and I'm not gonna do this for another week." Nikki felt like there was a weight on his chest, and it was making it very hard to breathe. "I don't know what it is! I can't ever really enjoy my birthdays, ever!" 

"And how long had this been going on?" Mick asked. 

"I dunno." Nikki muttered. "Forever. Twenty years. Fifty years. I don't keep track." 

Mick fell silent for a few minutes, and Nikki took that as cue to resume his message, praying that the conversation wouldn't start up again because the confession made Nikki feel like an unappreciative jerk, and the idea of having to do it all over again made him feel anxious. 

But Mick was no quitter, especially when it came to Nikki - he had proved that years ago, back when Nikki was a drug addict with a capital D and spending most of his nights getting high out of his mind. 

"What do you mean, that you don't like you're birthday?" Mick finally asked. "Is it like the idea of getting older, is it bad memories, or do you not know?" He sounded remarkably calm. 

Nikki thought about it for a minute. "Bad memories, I guess." He finally said. "But its also just, I dunno, something else. I can't place it." 

"Is there something I can do?" Mick asked. "Is there anything that I can do to help you?" His eyes were closed again. 

"That's sweet, but no." Nikki got onto his knees and began the more rigorous part of the message. "You've - done - enough. Jeez, your muscles are tight." 

"Considering the fact that you're messaging me, than I think I have some favors that you deserve." Mick replied. "And your muscles would be tight, too, if you had to carry around a guitar all night." 

"Well, those nights are behind us." Nikki said, and he wasn't able to hide the sting of disappointment in his voice. 

"Don't count your chickens before they hatch. Vince is probably gonna make us do another tour." Mick said, and he sounded oddly happy with the idea. 

Nikki snorted. "I can't believe that you just used the chicken idiom." He said. 

"I can't believe that you know what an idiom is." Mick said. "You're making me lose focus. Again - what can I do to help you?" 

The conversation was beginning to distract him, and so Nikki, with a weary sigh, dropped onto his back, keeping his hands carefully above the bed so that he didn't get the oil on the blanket. "You don't have to." He mumbled weakly. 

"I know." Mick said. 

"Don't mention it to Tommy or Vince." Nikki said. "I don't want them knowing." 

"You don't want them knowing a lot of things." Mick said, staring at Nikki out of the corner of his eye, restricted to staring at the bed while resting his forehead against his folded hands because his neck couldn't move to the left or right. 

It made Nikki's heart hurt, but he knew better than to say anything. "Yeah, but this is one thing that they can't know _anything_ about." He paused. "Okay?" 

"Okay." Mick agreed. "But is there anything that I can do to help you? To at least make your birthday a little more enjoyable?" He asked. 

Nikki looked away shyly. "It's embarassing." He mumbled. 

"I hate to be blunt, but one time, when you were coked out of your mind, you cried about how the sky wasn't made to be blue, and then fell asleep of top me." Mick said calmly. 

"Okay, so what - " 

"In your underwear." Mick added. 

Their eyes met in a moment of total, awkward silence. 

Nikki scowled. "That's another secret that we're gonna keep forever." He said, feeling his face heat up. "Here's the thing - " 

\-------- 

" _Whooo--hooo!_ Happy birthday, Nikki!" Tommy was in a good mood, per usual. 

"Yup. Thanks." Nikki accepted a hug, smiling despite himself at the obvious happiness. "You're...not wearing a shirt." 

"Nope." Tommy didn't give an explanation, and instead breezed on by to go and find Mick so that he could wreak even more headaches. 

Vince appeared a moment later. "The shelter wasn't accepting strays." He said, as if in way of explanation as he locked his car. 

"Odd. They haven't been accepting them for awhile." Nikki said. 

With a chuckle, Vince pulled Nikki into a hug. "Happy Birthday, buddy." 

"Thanks." Nikki said. 

They walked back into Mick's house, which served home to an over excited drummer and a guitarist with too much free time. "Hey, man." Vince said, bending down and somehow managing to get in a hug before being shoved away. 

Mick motioned to his laptop. "I'm doing something." He said, obviously angling the screen away, but Tommy was too distracted and Vince was too smart (well, sometimes) to mention it. 

As Tommy babbled on about everything and nothing at once, and while Vince begrudgingly listened and nodded mindlessly, Nikki bent down. "You doing your research, old man?" He whispered. 

"I never knew that there were so many - _ways_ of fucking." Mick sounded scandalized. 

"We've been doin' it since forever. What's got you so prudish now?" Nikki asked. 

"There's images." Mick shook his head. "The things I do for you, Sixx. You're lucky that I love you." 


End file.
